


Unity

by Anonymous



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Heavy Angst, I guess it depends how you look at it, Jealous Bellamy, Martyr Clarke, Mildly Dubious Consent, Season/Series 06, Sex Rituals, The 100 (TV) Kink Meme, The Bellarke is sweet though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 03:35:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17593847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: 2019 Kink Meme Prompt: As the agreement between Russell and the group gets finalized, he tells them they will celebrate by having 1 person from each group have sex in front of everyone as a sign of unity. When Russell’s son (Dan?) asks to partner with Clarke, she agrees, but Bellamy won't agree despite what the others are saying. When Russell asks if Clarke already has a partner, Bellamy ends up getting possessive but can’t stop it, so he fucks her before she has to publicly have sex with Dan? (Honestly you can make up your own name for Russell’s son--I’m not worried about that).+if you write Bellamy having to watch and he’s not doing well.





	1. Chapter 1

"Oh fuck me, more weird shit from the natives. I shouldn't be surprised," Murphy scoffs. 

"But he doesn't want to fuck you, cockroach. He wants Clarke," Raven says lowly from beside him, hazel eyes narrowing in on Russell, the leader of Eligius III, and his son, Dan, who's got longish dirty-blonde hair and a solid upper body wrapped up in his blue henley. She can still appreciate physical beauty while hating a situation. But back to Dan, who just said to a group of strangers that he wants to fuck Clarke. 

"I'm sorry," Diyoza says diplomatically, stepping forward with a light laugh that fools nobody. "I must have misheard you. Your people--"

"Would like to celebrate this peace treaty by having a public ceremony where one man and one woman from each side have sex - you heard correctly." Russell stands taller and carefully strokes his goatee. 

"And you don't find that absurd?" 

"Not at all," Russell says seriously. "It's symbolic of the larger thing we're agreeing to here today." He shrugs. "Beside, if the woman gets pregnant from it, it will become more than symbolic. It will be useful and more permanent." 

Bellamy literally growls - like a beast in the woods - and starts striding forward before Diyoza throws out a swift arm that catches him in the gut. 

"No," he snarls. It's so forceful it rings through the clearing and bounces off the stones, a palpable sign of his anger. His eyes are dark and wild. Raven can see his upper teeth, pointy, as his lip curls up. 

Raven watches Clarke bite her lip, glance over at him, then quickly look back at Russell, face once again blank. Ever their stoic delinquent leader, not allowing the new grounders on the block to intimidate her. 

"This is gonna be a shit show," Murphy mutters, kicking at a patch of dirt on the grass-filled hill that leads down to a wide ocean shore where two glowing suns glisten at each other in the clear sky. 

Raven's inclined to agree. They've been on this new planet for less than a week and already they're getting involved in public sex rituals in the supposed name of harmony. 

Echo pushes her sleek hair over her shoulder and hastens forward, placing her palm on Bellamy's shoulder and whispering something into his ear Raven can't hear. He shakes her off. 

"I'll do it," comes Clarke's steady voice. 

"No, you goddamn won't!" Bellamy pushes past Echo and begins walking toward Clarke, leaving a flash of hurt dancing over his girlfriend's face before it resumes its natural blankness. 

"Is there a problem?" Russell asks. 

"Beside this being barbaric and ridiculous?" Abby spits, hands at her hips. "There must be something else we can do. I won't accept-"

"I said I'd do it, mom," Clarke quiets her with a hard glance. "It'll be ok." 

Dan throws her a lopsided grin, eyes glowing in a gooey way, and Clarke presses her lips into a paper thin smile in response. Raven has seen them having lunch together all of twice this week, but honestly. The idea of the whole thing turns her stomach. 

"I said no," Bellamy is beside Clarke now, gripping her arm. Clarke startles at the touch and does stare up at him for real this time. His gaze bores into her. She shakes her head minutely at him, but rather than backing down the way Raven's watched him do in the face of her urging countless times before, he snarls and tugs her closer. 

"I. Said. No." He enunciates every word with cutting finality. 

Russell seems mildly amused. "I'm sorry. Maybe I haven't been made aware of all the relevant dynamics by your leader," he inclines his head toward Diyoza before shifting his focus to Bellamy. "She belongs to you?" 

It hangs there in the air between them all. The question nobody has ever directly posed before.


	2. Chapter 2

Bellamy steps so close to Clarke their arms brush. She shivers, hating herself for still thinking of him as hers.   
  
"No, I don't belong to him," she says tartly. "I don't belong to anybody."   
  
She hears Murphy let out a low whistle in the background. This is probably his goddamn dream come true. She can't believe Bellamy is picking now of all moments to become territorial when he spent the last week talking to her only about strategy (and only when they were surrounded by other people) from the moment Echo woke up from cryo. So much for watching out for Jordan together.   
  
Russell smiles widely. "Good. I wouldn't want to take a wife from her husband. Then Clarke," he says kindly, stepping closer to her. She's not sure how it's possible but Bellamy comes even nearer, positioning his body between her own and Russell's. "For the length of the ceremony, you belong to my son and he to you. After that," he raises his palms upward, "It is up to you." He snaps his fingers and several of his people come forward swiftly, awaiting his instructions.   
  
"Can you take Clarke to her room and prepare her please?" he asks.   
  
"No," Bellamy repeats again, stepping in front of her and grabbing her shoulders.  
  
"Young man--" Russell begins.  
  
"Listen, just give us a goddamn minute! All right?" Bellamy pushes the lengthening curls out of his eyes in pure frustration. She catches Dan walking closer to them, happier than she's ever seen him before. "Clarke," Bellamy tugs her attention back to him with the fourteen emotions he always manages to pack into her name. "Please, let's talk for a minute. Just a minute, ok?"   
  
"You haven't wanted to talk to me all week," she tries to say it harshly, but she's sure she doesn't quite succeed.   
  
"I have talked to you!" he thunders loudly enough for Abby to take a step forward, clear conflict streaking her face.   
  
To the left of them, Echo's willowy arms shake out her wrists twice. A strange gesture.   
  
"You may have a moment of course," Russell states. "But if you want peace between our people, you're expected to come back and fulfill your end of this agreement. You know the terms."   
  
Clarke nods at Russell before clenching her jaw at Bellamy. It seems that's all he needs to hear though because he wraps his arm around her shoulder and leads her across the large, grassy field and back up the grey ramp into their ship. They're stonily silent, Clarke's muscles stiff with the effort of keeping a check on her anger, until he lightly shoves her into his room - the room he's probably already fucked Echo in a few times she thinks as she eyes the rumpled bed - and locks the door behind him.   
  
"This is unnecessary," she hisses lowly to him. "You didn't need to be so dramatic. I know what I'm doing."   
  
"I don't give a fuck," he snarls, towering over her suddenly. "I'm not letting you do this."   
  
"Good thing you don't have a say then," she spits. "You heard Russell - you're not my keeper."   
  
He grips onto her waist then, shoving her back hard until her shoulder blades hit the wall with a bite. He still smells like old Earth somehow even after decades in cryosleep, like musky soil and hearty pine. She lets her nose drink it in, just this once.   
  
"You're out of your mind if you think I've been doing anything but trying to keep you safe since Dax tried to kill you by that tree."   
  
Her breath hitches. It feels like millenniums ago, and it feels like yesterday. She remembers the blackness of the night and Bellamy panting, wounded beside her and leaning up against the ancient, gnarled trunk. There was a soaring sensation through her frame that night when she touched his leg. He'd been so tired, so broken, opening up to her with a rawness that stays with her even now.   
  
She has to pull herself together. His hands are still on her body, which greedily leeches their warmth. Clarke clears her throat.   
  
"What I'm trying to tell you is you don't have to worry about me like that anymore. I'm ok."   
  
He just stares at her, eyes black, absorbing everything and reflecting none of it back to her. He's unreadable. Eventually, the silence grows to the point beyond which she can bear.   
  
"We need this, Bellamy. We need peace."   
  
"Not like this we don't," he argues, jaw ticking.

* * *

Hesitatingly, Clarke takes her hands and slides them over his on her waist, rubbing her thumbs gently along the arc between his thumbs and pointer fingers. 

"Just let me," she says brokenly, watching bursts of anguish light up his eyes. "I'm the one who fucked everything up. I left you to die in those pits," she stumbles on the words. "Let me make it right. Let me give our people something good." 

There's a few drops of glassy water welling up behind his lashes, but they don't fall. "Absolutely not," he manages harshly. "He could be a twisted psycho. He's not touching you." 

"You know he's not," she says softly. 

"He could be full of diseases," he grasps at the shreds of human biology lectures from the Ark still floating around in his brain. 

She raises a wry eyebrow. "You care about my health?" 

He clicks his tongue in exasperation, pressing closer, so his chest brushes hers. Her body hums. 

"You know the implants don't even work anymore." Her eyes widen. There. That's something she can't argue with. "Think about Harper. Think about Jordan," he pleads. 

Still, she shores herself up. 

"I can handle it," she says, though her skin is paler. "Please don't worry about me." 

"All I do is worry about you." 

"Why?" 

"Because you're reckless!" he thunders, stepping away and throwing up his arms in frustration. "Because you don't think anymore! Because ... " his eyes narrow and she watches him in what seems to be slow motion as he considers his next words. "I think you're really doing this because you're angry with me." 

"I'm. Doing. This. For. Our. People," Each word slices into his chest. 

"Maybe Wanheda is," Bellamy cups her cheek in his palm and is surprised when she doesn't shake it off. "But who's Clarke doing it for?" 

She blinks away her tears. This hurts more than she could have imagined. "You have to stop," she stammers, almost begging. "You can't be like this anymore." 

"Be like what?" 

"You can't look at me like you do, Bellamy, and then completely ignore me. It's ... it's goddamn agony. I know I shouldn't have left you, ok! I know you wouldn't have left me if you had a choice. But you DID! That's the thing. You left me alone on a dead planet for six fucking years, and I just ... I can't ... I don't know anymore!" she blubbers, tears rolling down her face though she tries to stem them with her jacket sleeves. "I told you how proud I was of you on that radio, and I WAS. It was the right thing to do for everybody, but ... but ... " 

"It wasn't the right thing for you," he says so quietly she has to strain to hear. There's self-loathing creeping back into his voice. "I didn't protect you the way we always protect each other. The way you expected me to protect you." 

"Everyone would have died," Clarke argues, trying to calm herself down so she has a chance at calming him. "It was the only choice. But what I did, leaving you to Octavia, it's..." she's shaking her head violently, shuddering. "It's unforgivable." 

Many seconds go by. 

"Not for me," Bellamy says, deep and low after so much time has gone by she thinks he's forgotten how to speak. He leans a fist against the wall near her head. "Never for me when it's you." 

"Bellamy ... " she breathes. "Don't make excuses for me because of Praimfaya." She's unable to look up at him and stares at the corner of his bed instead. "You don't have to do that. You don't have to take care of me anymore." 

"I'm always gonna want to take care of you." The admission hits her right in the chest, and when she chances a look into his never-ending brown eyes, she knows he means it. 

But all it does is make dry sobs rise up through her body. She's lightheaded, panicky. This isn't fair, isn't rational. He can't do this to her. He can't come down from the sky with Echo and then just act like---

"I don't deserve that!" she manages. "I haven't earned that!" 

He cups the space around the side of her ribs with a wide, stretching hand. "Too bad. That's just the way it is." 

"Why?" 

He is full of disbelief. 

"Really, Clarke?" 

"Yes," she gasps as his fingers slide a little higher. Yes because she has to have something to cling to even when she doesn't deserve it. 

"You need to hear the words?"

Yes. 

Even though it's wrong, so horribly, horribly wrong--

 

When his hand latches onto the small of her back and pulls her flush against him .... It feels right.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

He fences her in and presses nearer, hands skimming over her sides as he wedges a muscular thigh between her legs. For one perfect moment, she lets her clit grind on it by rocking her hips forward a fraction. Her hands fly up to his shoulders for balance, and he leans in so slowly, delicately whispering in her ear. 

"Because I'm always going to love you more," he rasps out. 

Her eyes widen in shock, something strangely like happiness blooming to life in her chest. 

"Don't do this." 

A bang on the door startles her just a few feet away. Clarke blinks, swallows, misses the heat of Bellamy's body as it pulls away from her own. She gathers up her wits enough to take note of who's interrupted them when Bellamy throws open the door. 

The tall, gangly mocha-skinned pilot from Eligius, Zeke, looks thoroughly uncomfortable. "Uh, really sorry, guys. Really sorry. But Diyoza sent me. Russell says it's time. She doesn't want to lose this alliance." 

Clarke's head's spinning as she walks silently behind Zeke, Bellamy beside her but an arm's length away. She wants to touch him again. Burns to. 

"Are you ready?" Russell asks when they arrive back at the stone circle. "Small price to pay for peace, really." 

Abby hisses like a rabid beast, but she can't look at her mother. Her gaze falls on Raven instead, and her friend gives her a bemused expression. Echo seems very intent on watching Dan pace back and forth, hands clasped behind his back. Emori, bless her, is leading Madi back to the ship while she protests loudly. Diyoza's watching Bellamy like he is a bomb about to blow up every dream for a future she ever had. But Murphy. Murphy is smirking right back at Clarke, daring her to do the thing he knows she will not do. 

She feels the laser focus of Bellamy's eyes on her cheek and ignores it. 

"Yes, where do you need me to go?" 

"Clarke, no!" Abby shrieks, rushing forward but immediately stopped by a burly member of Eligius III. 

Russell holds up his hand for silence. "The decision has been made. No more theatrics please." 

"Bellamy, do something!" Abby yells as the man starts dragging her away. "You said you'd protect her! You promised me you wouldn't let anything happen to her!" 

Clarke hears Bellamy's sharp intake of breath as two women step forward to lead her to wherever they're going to take her to ready her body for this act. She gathers her courage to glance at him one last time, trying to make her eyes convey her thoughts, _"I'm sorry."_ But she knows it'll never be enough. 

*

Echo can't believe she actually is going to watch this shit. But the sick part of her can't look away. Clarke's wearing a pale lavender dress - if you can call it that. It's got thin strings for sleeves and dips low to show off the tops of her breasts. When it shifts against her skin, she sees her nipples poke through. Her skin looks clean and rosy, and there's more makeup on her face than usual, though it's not excessive. Some form of violet powder on her lids that makes her eyes bluer and heavy mascara with a tinge of blush and shine to her mouth. Russell tells her to sit in the middle of a blue-and-white woven quilt under a canopy they've erected at the top of the hillside. Clarke tilts her legs off to the side of her body, making her think she must not have any underwear on. She glances over at Bellamy and sees him clenching his fists hard at his sides. To the west, the sun is starting its descent for the day. Well, at least one of them is - she's lost track of the other. 

"Ah, my son has arrived," Russell throws out a welcoming arm to Dan, who's wearing simple khaki-colored pants and a loose, unbuttoned white shirt. He walks bare foot to Clarke and sits down close beside her. Russell points to a small band of drummers who start up a steady rhythm and remind her of a Trikru ritual she saw once as a girl. 

Dan leans forward and puts a hand on Clarke's breast, light like a moth, before her little intake of breath makes him bolder and he squeezes, rubbing a thick thumb over her crested nipple. He shucks off his shirt and asks her to remove pants, which he has to stand to do. The effect is immediate - Clarke on her knees before him unzipping steadily.

* * *

"You look very beautiful," Dan tells her, stroking her jaw. 

Beside Echo, Bellamy starts slamming his fist into the side of his thigh. She grabs it at once after making eye contact with Diyoza. "She made her choice," she husks to him. "It will be over soon." 

Before them, Dan is seated back beside Clarke, so close their knees touch. He coasts a hand down her belly headed for the hem of the garment and tries to lean in for a kiss. But she turns her face away, eyes searching the tight circle of onlookers. Echo swallows back the bile, knowing who she seeks. Bellamy's lips are opened, his teeth slightly apart with crease lines streaking his forehead. He's frozen, like a silent scream wants to tear out of his lungs. It reminds her of how she used to find him in their early days on The Ring, standing by a window and staring at that one little patch of green for hours at time.

She should have known. 

She did know. 

She just fucking thought Clarke was dead in the flames. 

Nothing was going to change on the ground. And nothing ... in essence ... really did. But they're not on the ground anymore. They're starting over, starting fresh. Right. What a joke. Because this face is the same one she tried to transform years ago, hoping her growing love would be enough. 

"No kissing," Clarke's saying, and her attention snaps back to the blonde. "That's my condition." 

Echo honestly didn't think she'd go through with it, but Wanheda is always full of surprises. 

Dan looks disappointed but nods. 

"I have to touch you though," he says. 

Clarke hesitates, then nods and falls back onto the blanket, letting Dan climb on top of her. From this angle, Echo can see his fingers slipping lower and lower until they're circling around her entrance and rubbing at her clit. They all hear Clarke's gasp when they enter her. It sounds pained more than anything else. Not like agony, but unexpected pressure.

 

Bellamy lurches forward, and this time Murphy gets in his face, hands on his shoulders, mumbling things to talk him down. Her mind dances over the phrases "peace treaty," "it's Clarke," "for our people," and "chance to be safe for once." She has a feeling he's keeping his voice low for her benefit, but she still hears him whisper, "Don't be the fucking hero right now. You've got time to set this straight. Nothing but time," before he claps him on the shoulder. 

She realizes now that Murphy's whole speech was partly to distract him, and she's thankful for that much. Because as he steps back to his place in the circle, Echo realizes Dan's already pressing between Clarke's legs, hands braced on either side of her and urging her to spread her legs wider for him. It's ... strangely erotic to be able to see the penetration from where he's rolled up her purple silk to her hips, exposing the pink lips of her cunt to them all. His cock's thick and stretching her open thoroughly. 

Clarke's groaning with each thrust deeper inside. Echo knows she was with Lexa once and wonders how long it's been since she had a cock in her body. If she's ever had a cock in her body. But then her eyes flick to Raven's hardened expression, and she remembers the stories. Finn. The Spacewalker they both loved. 

"So tight and hot, baby," Dan's husking out loud enough for her to hear. "You feel so good, so good, so perfect." 

Dan reaches down to rub her clit while sucking at her neck, and for a moment, Clarke's foot lifts off the blanket and she cries out, in pain or pleasure or both it's difficult to say. But then Echo's blood runs cold at the sound of "Bell-me," tearing from her lips. 

Bellamy springs into action, about to throw the guy straight off her from the looks of it, when Dan pulls out of her heat and begins pumping his cock in his fist, spraying all over the white flesh of her stomach instead. Her fingertips are closing on the back of Bellamy's shirt, but he's so paralyzed, there's no need. 

Clarke looks shocked as she sits up, finally flooded a peach rose shade of embarrassment Echo had been expecting to emerge the whole time. 

"So good," Dan presses his nose to Clarke's cheek, missing her wince, before standing up and accepting a rag from one of his people. Clarke takes another he gives her and hastily starts cleaning herself up.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Bellamy's caught between painful arousal and borderline psychotic rage. Clarke's blue eyes have a dash of fear when they find his, but he immediately looks away.   
  
Beside him, Echo shudders. "Can't believe she went through with it," she murmurs.   
  
Then she turns to him, sweeps her gaze over his body and lingers on the bulge expanding between his legs. At least his pants are black, which helps a little. "You're never going to say it, so I will," she catches his chin and yanks it back to her more roughly than he expects. "It's over between us. All this has made that painfully clear."   
  
"Yeah," his jaw clenches, wondering why he doesn't feel more. He should feel more. He cares - cared? - about her. "I'm sorry."   
  
She purses her lips in distaste. "I can't compete with your first love, and I'm sick of trying. You made me look like a fool here today. Your performance almost cost all of us our safety." She might hate him. She'll get over it. Or he won't. He knows nothing more intimately than working on deserving forgiveness. "You two better fucking figure it out." She stalks away into the fading light, Raven noticing and trying to hurry after her as quickly as her leg will allow.   
  
*  
  
Clarke pulls back on her clothing hastily where she neatly piled it in the room they bring her back to. She'd scrubbed herself clean as much as she could with a rag diving into the bucket of water and soap they brought her, but she still feels dirty. When she enters the balmy air again, she catches Diyoza huddled in a deep conversation with Russell on the top of a gently rolling hill. She's a squalling hen eager to cement the deal, no doubt.

But she only wants Bellamy - her heart's hammering in her throat, and she has no idea if she's lost him forever despite providing her people a safe place to live. He's staring off in the far distance toward the woods where some birds circle over the topmost branches when she spots him. His hands are on his hips, and she can hear his heavier breathing when she gets closer. This isn't going to be easy.   
  
"Can we take a walk?" she asks quietly, sliding her small hand over his bicep. He tenses, turns to her with a look of anguish on his face so vivid it makes her chest constrict. "Please," she's no longer above begging. She refuses to lose him now, willing to fight however hard she has to. There's nothing else left. Nothing else she's ever going to want, not like this.    
  
Finally, he nods.   
  
They find their way to a pebble path winding by the ocean, tiny waves lapping up at the shore. The water's white-teal and lovely with the sunset casting golden shimmers onto its surface. When the retreating hill at their back fully blocks them, she can't hep herself anymore. She needs to feel him even if he can't look at her, even if he shakes her off, she has to try. Clarke wonders if Bellamy could ever be fully and truly disgusted with her. By her. She curls both her arms around his left one and nuzzles against his sweet-smelling skin with her cheek  
  
"That was twisted, Clarke. Really fucking twisted," he grunts.   
  
"You knew I was going to do it. I had to," she tries to impress this upon him while a fish leaps into the air nearby and crashes back to the water with a splash.   
  
"You didn't."   
  
"There wasn't another option," she tries to keep her voice calm.   
  
"We would have found one!" he yells at her finally, breaking away and facing her.   
  
Clarke bites her lip at the sight of him, cheeks flushing again. "It turned you on, didn't it?" she drifts closer and watches his pupils widen to take over his irises. It gives her confidence.   
  
"It was live porn," he hisses.   
  
"But you were watching _me_ ," she wraps a hand around his waist, letting one hand scratch at his stomach through his shirt before drifting it lower. "Did you like that part?"   
  
He catches her wrist by the bone.   
  
"Why are you acting like this?" he demands. "Nothing about this is a game."   
  
"Mmm," Clarke agrees, stepping back to stare him down. "I know I wasn't laughing when you came home dating Echo." She's never said anything of the kind before, but she can't keep it bottled up anymore.   
  
He stares at her, bemused. “I - we weren’t - I didn’t know you were alive! How can you say that to me?”   
  
For a moment, she feels the guilt slosh through her veins. But it's replaced rapidly by her memories of wandering through a blazing desert starving for days.  
  
"It was years. I know. I know it's not rational but .... but it's still how I feel! Because keeping you alive every day in my mind is what kept me alive. That's how important you are to me." She latches onto both of his forearms letting the desperation take over. "I needed you, I always needed you."

* * *

When he talks again, his voice is full of pain. "Don’t you think I felt horrible, still feel horrible, that I left you behind to die when I loved you? Clarke..." he rakes a hand violently through his hair. "I barely ate for weeks. I was useless. I stared at the wall. Murphy had to throw water over my head just to get me to move." 

She softens, lets out a breath. Very slowly, she reaches up and presses a kiss to his shoulder, rubbing a hand up his back and making soothing shushing noises. She's so grateful he doesn't push her away. 

"I’m sorry. I'm sorry that was unfair.” 

“No,"he cups her face. "I owed you more then. And now. I should have stopped that whole goddamn spectacle before it started!" 

"That's not what I wanted you to do." 

"Then why did you call my name?" 

"Because," she hides her face in his chest, relaxing a little when he wraps an arm around her waist. He's so strong and solid. "I wanted it to be you instead." 

"Jesus Christ, Clarke." 

"Listen," she tries to gather her wits about her. She can hear his heart beating a fast tattoo under her ear. "The point is you didn't owe me anything during Praimfaya. We were all just trying to survive. The bunker was a disaster. I was so cruel to you."

"I forgave you for the gun--"

"You were always a kinder person--"

He scoffs. 

"I killed so many innocent people, Clarke." 

"So did I!" She stamps her foot. 

"Not for the same reasons." 

"Stop tormenting yourself!" 

"I'm just telling the truth." 

"Well I can't take it anymore! Don't you know much it hurts me to see you in pain?"

He stops the retort from rising, opens his mouth, and closes it again. 

"It's always hurt, even though we weren't together then." 

"Then?" he raises an eyebrow and catches two fingers under her chin when she tries to duck away from his gaze. 

She flushes, realizing her mistake. Of course that would be the part he clung onto. "We weren’t ever together," she amends, breaking free to stare out at the water. The sun’s sinking rays reflect in her light eyes. 

"Clarke—"

‘No, it’s fine. I'm fine," she steps farther back. "Look, I’m sorry I had to fuck Dan to keep us safe. I didn't want to do it. But we're in a better position than we've been in in a long time, all right. So I’d appreciate if it you could just try to move past it and—"

She doesn't expect his hand at her hip and his lips crashing into hers but that's exactly what she gets. She's waited so long for his mouth on hers, to know what his chest feels like crushed up against her own. Her moan is embarrassing, but Bellamy takes advantage of it, sliding his tongue into her mouth and draining her mind of all thoughts except how perfect his shoulders feel under her fingers. 

Clarke pulls away after a long minute, eyes bright and lips swelling pleasantly. She touches her fingers to them, blinking. 

 

"I wasn't expecting that."

 

"There's never been a good opportunity. You're always trying to talk over me." 

 

She grins when she realizes he's screwing with her, pushes into his side and holds on securely. 

 

"I'll always love you more too, Bellamy," she says it like a vow. "I love you most. I always have." 

He's beaming at her like she doesn't think she's ever seen him smile, surprises her by lifting her into the air and swinging her around a few times in circles before crushing her back into his body and recapturing his lips. Yeah, this is a foreign Bellamy all right. Not that she's complaining. The next thing she knows, they're stumbling down in the sand. They laugh like they're drunk on Monty's moonshine with her palm stretched out over his chest while he lies flat on his back, smiling softly at her. 

"You're very graceful," she tells him, but she's grinning like a moron, too. Then she's leaning forward to kiss him, pressing her body securely to his, and he's tangling his hand in her choppy waves. She doesn't know why this didn't happen before, so long before. She should have grabbed him under that tree. Should have climbed into his lap by that fire when he told her she'd done the right thing escaping Mount Weather. She could have slipped into his bed on Luna's rig or asked him to fuck her after she made that list and only he could comfort her anyway. But all of that is gone. At least he exists in almost every one of her memories that's good from Earth. 

* * *

 She's so deep in her musings, she barely notices Bellamy flipping her over onto her back until he's crowding on top of her and kissing her jaw and neck. He gently rubs the skin of her stomach, and a sound comes from low down in her throat. She spreads her legs wider, pulling him between them by his shirt. He pauses, caught up in looking at her. Blushing has never come so easily to her. Though it shouldn't, she reminds herself. This is her Bellamy. 

"Hey," she cups his jaw, kisses him quickly, before running a hand through his bangs. "Don't stop." 

'Hmm, what do you want, Princess?" 

She hasn’t heard him call her that in more than 100 years. It's delightful music. 

"You… I want you. I just want you," She manages, turning to give him more access to her neck.

“Then we’re gonna have to clean you up, aren’t we?” He raises his eyebrows at her, and she swears the blush is spreading all over her torso like a scarlet serpent. She nods. She wants nothing more than to be clean with him. Bellamy very slowly lets his hand trail down over her cargo pants to the heated space between her thighs. “Nobody else is ever touching you again," he growls. It sends a shiver through her.  

Normally she’d hate any statement like that, but tonight, finally able to touch him like she's wanted to do since she was 18, her cunt clenches. 

“Nobody else,” she agrees, shaking her head slightly then stretching up to kiss him again. He deepens it hungrily. She can’t believe she went so long without knowing that he tasted like home. Like the stars and the earth and that scent that hangs thickly in the air after rain combined. 

He stands up and holds out his hand, pulling her to her feet easily. They strip down to their underwear and together head out into the waves. 

And there in the sea of the new planet so far from where they started, she finally lets the full warmth and love and hopefulness of Bellamy Blake take root inside her. 

 


End file.
